


I won you something

by cak



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Please be aware, TINY TINY SPOILERS FOR SERIES 3 EPISODE ONE, please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 08:20:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cak/pseuds/cak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PLEASE BE AWARE THAT THIS IS BASED ON A COMMENT MADE BETWEEN THE BROTHERS IN SERIES 3 EPISODE ONE - THE EMPTY HEARSE. IF YOU'RE AVOIDING ALL SPOILERS PLEASE DON'T READ. </p><p>A young Sherlock goes to the fair with Mummy with the specific aim of bringing Mycroft something back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I won you something

**Author's Note:**

> Again, slightly spoilery - please don't read if you're avoiding spoilers.
> 
> Just a tiny silly thing that I wrote and it's just silly, but there we are. I have no beta or anything, so all mistakes are my own and if you see anything massive, let me know and I'll sort it out :)
> 
> C.

A five year old Sherlock Holmes had managed to convince his mother to take him to the fair that was passing through the town a couple of miles away from their house.

  
He tapped his foot against the car door for the entirety of the journey to the fair, despite having been asked not to.

  
Once the car pulled up to the car park, Sherlock was unbuckling his belt and opening the car door.

“Sherlock…” His mother said sternly, her hands on her seat belt. “Slow down. You’re going nowhere without me.”

Sherlock grumbled and waited for her to unbuckle her belt before he jumped out of the car, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his pocket money jingling in his pocket. His Mum walked to him and took his hand, leading him to the fair, although he was tugging on her hand. Sherlock looked around, his eyes seeking out one stall in particular that he’d been told was at the fair.

Spotting it, he turned to his Mum. “Mummy, I’m thirsty. Can you get me a drink? I’m going to look at that stall.” He said, pointing to the one next to the food and drink stand.

Sighing, she nodded. “Don’t go anywhere else. Don’t talk to anyone. Shout for me if you need me.”

Sherlock nodded and let go of her hand and wandered over to the stall. He looked at the game, trying to work out the easiest way to win because he _really_ wanted the prize. Digging in to his pocket, he pulled out a fifty-pence piece and handed it to the man who gave Sherlock a rod. It was simple, all he had to do was hook the right duck. He could do it. After watching for another moment, he stood on his toes and carefully selected a duck, hooking it on his rod. On the underside was a small image of a fish. Smiling, he handed it to the man who looked at him with a small smile. He turned around and started to collect the prize together. A moment later, his mother arrived, handing him a carton of juice, which he accepted with a nod. The man on the stall turned back to Sherlock and handed him his prize.

 

A goldfish.

He grinned and held the bag, letting the man give the fish bowl to Sherlock’s Mum. She took it with a small frown, glancing at Sherlock. 

Nodding, Sherlock turned away from the stall, the bag with the fish in one hand and the juice in the other and he trudged towards the car. 

“Sherlock, where are you going?” His mum asked, following after him. 

“I came to get a fish. I want to go home now.” He said, standing by the car. 

Sighing, his mother got in and drove them home, the fish on Sherlock’s lap. Once they arrived, Sherlock got out and carried the fish, swimming around in the water, into the house and up to the spare bedroom, where Mycroft was. 

Knocking on the door, Sherlock opened it a little, hiding the fish behind his back.

“Mycroft…” He murmured.

A twelve year old Mycroft looked up from his homework and smiled. “Brother, dear.” He smiled.

“I went to the fair with Mummy.” He said, glancing at the floor, the bag still held tightly in his hand. “And I won you something.”

Mycroft frowned and sat up a bit. “What is it?” He asked carefully.

Nodding once, Sherlock pulled the bag out from behind his back, proudly presenting the fish in the bag.

“A goldfish?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sherlock frowned a little. “I thought you’d like a… friend. A goldfish.”

Mycroft got up and walked towards Sherlock, taking the fish. “Yes… A goldfish. A friend.” He smiled at him. “Thank you. I appreciate it, brother.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
